FEW Catholics know of The Permanent Instruction of the Alta Vendita, a secret
document written in the early 19th century that mapped out a blueprint for the
subversion of the Catholic Church. The Alta Vendita was the highest lodge
of the Carbonari, an Italian secret society with links to Freemasonry and which,
along with Freemasonry, was condemned by the Catholic Church. Fr. E. Cahill,
S.J. in his book Freemasonry and the Anti-Christian Movement states that the
Alta Vendita was commonly supposed to have been at the time the governing
centre of European Freemasonry. The Carbonari were most active in Italy
and France. In his book Athanasius and the Church of Our Time, Bishop Rudolph
Graber quoted a Freemason who declared that the goal [of Freemasonry]
is no longer the destruction of the Church, but to make use of it by infiltrating
it.

In other words, since Freemasonry cannot completely obliterate Christs
Church, it plans not only to eradicate the influence of Catholicism in society,
but also to use the Churchs structure as an instrument of renewal,
progress and enlightenment to further many of its own
principles and goals. An Outline The strategy advanced in The Permanent
Instruction of the Alta Vendita is astonishing in its audacity and cunning.
From the start, the document tells of a process that will take decades to
accomplish. Those who drew up the document knew that they would not see
its fulfillment. They were inaugurating a work that would be carried on by succeeding
generations of the initiated. The Permanent Instruction says, In our ranks
the soldier dies and the struggle goes on. The Instruction called for
the dissemination of liberal ideas and axioms throughout society and within
the institutions of the Catholic Church so that laity, seminarians, clerics
and prelates would, over the years, gradually be imbued with progressive principles.
In time, this mind-set would be so pervasive that priests would be ordained,
bishops would be consecrated and cardinals would be nominated whose thinking
was in step with the modern thought rooted in the French Revolutions Declaration
of the Rights of Man and other Principles of 1789 (equality
of religions, separation of Church and State, religious pluralism, etc.).

Eventually, a Pope would be elected from these ranks who would lead the
Church on the path of enlightenment and renewal.
They stated that it was not their aim to place a Freemason on the Chair of
Peter. Their goal was to effect an environment that would eventually produce
a Pope and a hierarchy won over to the ideas of liberal Catholicism, all the
while believing themselves to be faithful Catholics. These Catholic leaders,
then, would no longer oppose the modern ideas of the Revolution (as had been
the consistent practice of the Popes from 1789 until 1958the death of
Pope Pius XII who condemned these liberal principles) but would amalgamate
them into the Church. The end result would be a Catholic clergy and laity
marching under the banner of the Enlightenment, all the while thinking they
are marching under the banner of the Apostolic keys.

Is It Possible?
For those who may believe this scheme to be too far-fetcheda goal too
hopeless for the enemy to attain, it should be noted that both Pope Pius IX
and Pope Leo XIII asked that The Permanent Instruction be published, no doubt
in order to prevent such a tragedy from taking place. However, if such a dark
state of affairs would ever come to pass, there would obviously be three unmistakable
means of recognizing it:
1) It would produce an upheaval of such magnitude that the entire world would
realize that there had been a major revolution inside the Catholic Church in
line with modern ideas. It would be clear to all that an updating
had taken place.
2) A new theology would be introduced that would be in contradiction
to previous teachings.
3) The Freemasons themselves would voice their cock-a-doodle of triumph,
believing that the Catholic Church had finally seen the light
on such points as equality of religions, the secular state, pluralism and whatever
other compromises had been achieved.

The Authenticity of the Alta Vendita Documents

The secret papers of the Alta Vendita that fell into the hands of Pope Gregory
XVI embrace a period that goes from 1820 to 1846. They were published at the
request of Pope Pius IX by Cretineau-Joly in his work The Roman Church and Revolution.
With the brief of approbation of February 25, 1861, which he addressed to the
author, Pope Pius IX guaranteed the authenticity of these documents, but he
did not allow anyone to divulge the true members of the Alta Vendita implicated
in this correspondence. The full text of the Permanent Instruction of the Alta
Vendita is also contained in Msgr. George E. Dillons book, Grand Orient
Freemasonry Unmasked. When Pope Leo XIII was presented with a copy of Msgr.
Dillons book, he was so impressed that he ordered an Italian version to
be completed and published at his own expense. In the Encyclical Humanum Genus
(1884), Leo XIII called upon Catholic leaders to tear off the mask from
Freemasonry and make plain to all what it really is. The publication of
these documents is a means of tearing off the mask.

And if the Popes asked that these letters be published, it is because they
wanted all Catholics to know the secret societies plans to subvert
the Church from withinso that Catholics would be on their guard and,
hopefully, prevent such a catastrophe from taking place.

What follows is not the entire instruction, but the sections that are most
pertinent to our discussion. The document reads (with emphasis added):
Our ultimate end is that of Voltaire and of the French Revolutionthe
final destruction of Catholicism, and even of the Christian idea. . . .
The Pope, whoever he is, will never come to the secret societies; it is up to
the secret societies to take the first step toward the Church, with the aim
of conquering both of them. The task that we are going to undertake is not the
work of a day, or of a month, or of a year; it may last several years,perhaps
a century; but in our ranks the soldier dies and the struggle goes on.
We do not intend to win the Popes to our cause, to make them neophytes of our
principles, propagators of our ideas. That would be a ridiculous dream; and
if events turn out in some way, if Cardinals or prelates, for example, of their
own free will or by surprise, should enter into a part of our secrets, this
is not at all an incentive for desiring their elevation to the See of Peter.
That elevation would ruin us. Ambition alone would have led them to apostasy,
the requirements of power would force them to sacrifice us.

What we must ask for, what we should look for and wait for, as the Jews wait
for the Messiah, is a Pope according to our needs . . . With that we
shall march more securely towards the assault on the Church than with the pamphlets
of our brethren in France and even the gold of England. Do you want to know
the reason for this? It is that with this, in order to shatter the high rock
on which God has built His Church, we no longer need Hannibalian vinegar, or
need gunpowder, or even need our arms. We have the little finger of the successor
of Peter engaged in the ploy, and this little finger is as good, for this
crusade, as all the Urban IIs and all the Saint Bernards in Christendom. We
have no doubt that we will arrive at this supreme end of our efforts. But when?
But how? The unknown is not yet revealed. Nevertheless, as nothing should turn
us aside from the plan drawn up, and on the contrary everything should tend
to this, as if as early as tomorrow success were going to crown the work that
is barely sketched, we wish, in this instruction, which will remain secret for
the mere initiates, to give the officials in the charge of the supreme Vente
[Lodge] some advice that they should instill in all the brethren, in the form
of instruction or of a memorandum . . . Now then, to assure ourselves a Pope
of the required dimensions, it is a question first of shaping for this Pope
a generation worthy of the reign we are dreaming of. Leave old people and those
of a mature age aside; go to the youth, and if it is possible, even to the
children. . . . You will contrive for yourselves, at little cost, a reputation
as good Catholics and pure patriots.

This reputation will put access to our doctrines into the midst of the young
clergy, as well as deeply into the monasteries. In a few years, by the force
of things, this young clergy will have overrun all the functions; they will
form the sovereigns council, they will be called to choose a Pontiff who
should reign. And this Pontiff, like most of his contemporaries, will be necessarily
more or less imbued with the [revolutionary] Italian and humanitarian principles
that we are going to begin to put into circulation. It is a small grain of black
mustard that we are entrusting to the ground; but the sunshine of justice will
develop it up to the highest power, and you will see one day what a rich harvest
this small seed will produce. In the path that we are laying out for our brethren
there are found great obstacles to conquer, difficulties of more than one kind
to master. They will triumph over them by experience and by clearsightedness;
but the goal is so splendid that it is important to put all the sails to the
wind in order to reach it. You want to revolutionize Italy; look for the Pope
whose portrait we have just drawn. You wish to establish the reign of the chosen
ones on the throne of the prostitute of Babylon; let the clergy march under
your standard, always believing that they are marching under the banner of the
Apostolic keys. You intend to make the last vestige of tyrants and the oppressors
disappear; lay your snares [nets] like Simon Bar-Jona; lay them in the sacristies,
the seminaries and the monasteries rather than at the bottom of the sea: and
if you do not hurry, we promise you a catch more miraculous than his. The fisher
of fish became the fisher of men; you will bring friends around the Apostolic
Chair. You will have preached a revolution in tiara and in cope, marching with
the cross and the banner, a revolution that will need to be only a little bit
urged on to set fire to the four corners of the world.

It now remains for us to examine how successful this design has been. The Enlightenment,
My Friend, Is Blowin in the Wind Throughout the 19th century,
society had become increasingly permeated with the liberal principles of the
Enlightenment and the French Revolution, to the great detriment of the Catholic
Faith and the Catholic State. The supposedly kinder and gentler
notions of religious pluralism, religious indifferentism, a democracy which
believes all authority comes from the people, false notions of liberty, separation
of Church and State, interfaith gatherings and other novelties were gripping
the minds of post-Enlightenment Europe, infecting statesmen and churchmen alike.
The Popes of the 19th century and early 20th century waged war against these
dangerous trends in full battle dress. With clearsighted presence of mind
rooted in an uncompromised certitude of Faith, these Popes were not taken in.
They knew that evil principles, no matter how honorable they may appear, cannot
bear good fruit, and these were evil principles at their worst, since they were
rooted not only in heresy, but in apostasy. Like commanding generals who recognize
the duty to hold their ground at all cost, these Popes aimed powerful cannons
at the errors of the modern world and fired incessantly. The Encyclicals
were their cannonballs, and they never missed their target. The most devastating
blast came in the form of Pope Pius IXs monumental 1864 Syllabus of Errors,
and when the smoke cleared, all involved in the battle were in no doubt as to
who was on what side. The lines of demarcation had clearly been drawn. In this
great Syllabus, Pius IX condemned the principal errors of the modern world,
not because they were modern, but because these new ideas were rooted in
pantheistic naturalism and were therefore incompatible with Catholic doctrine,
as well as being destructive to society. The teachings in the Syllabus were
counter-Liberalism, and the principles of Liberalism were counter-Syllabus.
This was unquestionably recognized by all parties. Father Denis Fahey referred
to this showdown as Pius IX vs. the Pantheistic Deification of Man. Speaking
for the other side, the French Freemason Ferdinand Buisson likewise declared,
A school cannot remain neutral between the Syllabus and the Declaration
of the Rights of Man.

Liberal Catholics
Yet the 19th century saw a new breed of Catholic who utopianly sought a compromise
between the two. These men looked for what they believed to be good
in the principles of 1789 and tried to introduce them into the Church. Many
clergymen, infected by the spirit of the age, were caught into this net that
had been cast into the sacristies and into the seminaries. They
came to be known as Liberal Catholics. Pope Pius IX remarked
that they were the worst enemies of the Church. Despite this, their numbers
increased. Pope St. Pius X and Modernism This crisis peaked around the beginning
of the 20th century when the Liberalism of 1789 that had been blowin
in the wind swirled into the tornado of Modernism. Fr. Vincent Miceli
identified this heresy as such by describing Modernisms trinity
of parents. He wrote:
1) Its religious ancestor is the Protestant Reformation;
2) Its philosophical parent is the Enlightenment;
3) Its political pedigree comes from the French Revolution.

Pope St. Pius X, who ascended to the papal chair in 1903, recognized Modernism
as a most deadly plague that must be arrested. He wrote that the most important
obligation of the Pope is to insure the purity and integrity of Catholic doctrine,
and he further stated that if he did nothing, then he would have failed in his
essential duty. St. Pius X waged a war on Modernism, issued an Encyclical (Pascendi)
and a Syllabus (Lamentabili) against it, instituted the Anti-Modernist Oath
to be sworn by all priests and theology teachers, purged the seminaries
and universities of Modernists and excommunicated the stubborn and unrepentant.
St. Pius X effectively halted the spread of Modernism in his day. It is reported,
however, that when he was congratulated for having eradicated this grave error,
St. Pius X immediately responded that despite all his efforts, he had not
succeeded in killing this beast, but had only driven it underground. He warned
that if Church leaders were not vigilant, it would return in the future more
virulent than ever.

Curia on the Alert
A little-known drama that unfolded during the reign of Pope Pius XI demonstrates
that the underground current of Modernist thought was alive and well in the
immediate post-Pius X period. Father Raymond Dulac relates that at the secret
consistory of May 23, 1923, Pope Pius XI questioned the thirty Cardinals of
the Curia on the timeliness of summoning an ecumenical council. In attendance
were such illustrious prelates as Cardinals Merry del Val, De Lai, Gasparri,
Boggiani and Billot. The Cardinals advised against it. Cardinal Billot warned,
The existence of profound differences in the midst of the episcopacy
itself cannot be concealed . . . [They] run the risk of giving place to
discussions that will be prolonged indefinitely. Boggiani recalled the
Modernist theories from which, he said, a part of the clergy and of the bishops
were not exempt. This mentality can incline certain Fathers to present
motions, to introduce methods incompatible with Catholic traditions.

Billot was even more precise. He expressed his fear of seeing the council maneuvered
by the worst enemies of the Church, the Modernists, who are already
getting ready, as certain indications show, to bring forth the revolution in
the Church, a new 1789. In discouraging the idea of a council for
such reasons, these Cardinals showed themselves more apt at recognizing the
signs of the times than all the post-Vatican II theologians combined.
Yet their caution may have been rooted in something deeper. They may also have
been haunted by the writings of the infamous illuminé, the excommunicated
Canon Roca (1830-1893), who preached revolution and Church reform
and who predicted a subversion of the Church that would be brought about
by a council. Canon Rocas Revolutionary Ravings In his book Athanasius
and the Church of Our Time, Bishop Graber refers to Canon Rocas prediction
of a new, enlightened Church which would be influenced by the socialism
of Jesus and the Apostles. In the mid-19th century, Roca had predicted:
The new church, which might not be able to retain anything of Scholastic
doctrine and the original form of the former Church, will nevertheless receive
consecration and canonical jurisdiction from Rome. Bishop Graber, commenting
on this prediction, remarked, A few years ago this was still inconceivable
to us, but today . . .?

Canon Roca also predicted a liturgical reform. With reference
to the future liturgy, he believed that the divine cult in the form directed
by the liturgy, ceremonial, ritual and regulations of the Roman Church will
shortly undergo a transformation at an ecumenical council, which will restore
to it the venerable simplicity of the golden age of the Apostles in accordance
with the dictates of conscience and modern civilization. He foretold that
through this council will come a perfect accord between the ideals of
modern civilization and the ideal of Christ and His Gospel. This will be the
consecration of the New Social Order and the solemn baptism of modern civilization.
Roca also spoke of the future of the Papacy. He wrote, There is a sacrifice
in the offing which represents a solemn act of expiation . . . The Papacy will
fall; it will die under the hallowed knife which the fathers of the last council
will forge. The papal caesar is a host [victim] crowned for the sacrifice.
Roca enthusiastically predicted a new religion, new dogma,
new ritual, new priesthood. He called the new
priests progressists [sic]; he speaks of the suppression
of the soutane [cassock] and the marriage of priests. Chilling
echos of Roca and the Alta Vendita are to be found in the words of the Rosicrucian
Dr. Rudolph Steiner, who declared in 1910, We need a council and a Pope
to proclaim it. The Great Council that Never Was Around 1948, Pope Pius
XII, at the request of the staunchly orthodox Cardinal Ruffini, considered calling
a general council and even spent a few years making the necessary preparations.
There is evidence that progressive elements in Rome eventually dissuaded Pius
XII from bringing it to realization since this council showed definite signs
of being in sync with Humani Generis. Like this great 1950 encyclical, the new
council would combat false opinions which threaten to undermine the foundations
of Catholic doctrine. Tragically, Pope Pius XII became convinced that
he was too advanced in years to shoulder this momentous task, and he resigned
himself to the idea that this will be for my successor.

Roncalli to Consecrate Ecumenism
Throughout the pontificate of Pope Pius XII (1939-1958), the Holy Office under
the able leadership of Cardinal Ottaviani maintained a safe Catholic landscape
by keeping the wild horses of Modernism firmly corralled. Many of todays
Modernist theologians disdainfully recount how they and their friends had been
muzzled during this period. Yet even Ottaviani could not prevent
what was to happen in 1958. A new type of Pope whom the progressives believed
to favor their cause would ascend to the pontifical chair and would force
a reluctant Ottaviani to remove the latch, open the corral and brace himself
for the stampede. However, such a state of affairs was not unforeseen. At the
news of the death of Pius XII, the old Dom Lambert Beauduin, a friend of Cardinal
Roncalli (the future John XXIII), confided to Father Louis Bouyer: If
they elect Roncalli, everything would be saved; he would be capable of calling
a council and of consecrating ecumenism. And so it happened: Cardinal
Roncalli was elected and called a council which consecrated ecumenism.
The revolution in tiara and cope was underway.

Pope Johns Revolution
It is well known and superbly documented that a clique of liberal theologians
(periti) and bishops hijacked Vatican Council II (1962-1965) with an agenda
to remake the Church into their own image through the implementation of a new
theology. Critics and defenders of Vatican II are in agreement on this
point. In his book Vatican II Revisited, Bishop Aloysius J. Wycislo (a rhapsodic
advocate of the Vatican II revolution) declares with enthusiasm that theologians
and biblical scholars who had been under a cloud for years surfaced
as periti [theological experts advising the bishops at the Council], and their
post-Vatican II books and commentaries became popular reading. He notes
that Pope Pius XIIs encyclical Humani Generis [1950] had . . . a
devastating effect on the work of a number of pre-conciliar theologians
and explains that During the early preparation of the Council, those theologians
(mainly French, with some Germans) whose activities had been restricted by Pope
Pius XII, were still under a cloud. Pope John quietly lifted the ban affecting
some of the most influential ones. Yet a number remained suspect to the officials
of the Holy Office. Bishop Wycislo sings the praises of triumphant
progressives such as Hans Küng, Karl Rahner, John Courtney Murray, Yves
Congar, Henri de Lubac, Edward Schillebeeckx and Gregory Baum, who had been
considered suspect before the Council, but who are now the leading lights
of post-Vatican II theology. In effect, those whom Pope Pius XII considered
unfit to be walking the streets of Catholicism were now in control of the town.
And as if to crown their achievements, the Oath against Modernism was quietly
suppressed shortly after the close of the Council.

St. Pius X had predicted correctly. Lack of vigilance in authority had allowed
Modernism to return with a vengeance. Marching under a New Banner
There were countless battles at Vatican II between the International Group of
Fathers, who fought to maintain Tradition, and the progressive Rhine group.
Tragically, in the end, it was the latter, the Liberal and Modernist element
that prevailed. It was obvious, to anyone who had eyes to see, that the
Council opened the door to many ideas that had formerly been anathema to Church
teaching, but which are in step with modernist thought. This did not happen
by accident, but by design. The progressives at Vatican II avoided condemnations
of Modernist errors. They also deliberately planted ambiguities in the Councils
texts which they intended to exploit after the Council. These ambiguities
have been utilized to promote an ecumenism that had been condemned by
Pope Pius XI, a religious liberty that had been condemned by the 19th
and early 20th-century Popes (especially Pope Pius IX), a new liturgy along
the lines of ecumenism that Archbishop Bugnini called a major conquest
of the Catholic Church, a collegiality that strikes at the heart
of the papal primacy and a new attitude toward the world
especially in one of the most radical of all the Council documents, Gaudium
et Spes. As the authors of The Permanent Instruction of the Alta Vendita had
hoped, the notions of Liberal culture had finally won adherence among major
players in the Catholic hierarchy and were thus spread throughout the entire
Church. The result has been an unprecedented crisis of Faith, which continues
to worsen. At the same time, countless highly placed Churchmen, obviously inebriated
by the spirit of Vatican II, continuously praise those post-Conciliar
reforms that have brought this calamity to pass.